


Skyward Sword: Sword Swap

by BlueMoonFantasies



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Ghirahim and Fi switch roles, Heroic Ghirahim, Role Reversal, Villain Fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-13 16:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20585276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMoonFantasies/pseuds/BlueMoonFantasies
Summary: This is a series of scene rewrites from Skyward Sword where only one thing has changed: Ghirahim was originally made to inhabit the Master Sword and Fi was made to inhabit Demise's Sword.





	1. Hylia's Angel

Hylia stood in solitude, watching Her people through the waterfall in the rear of Her temple in Faron Woods. As She stared on, She heard a sound somewhere between the song of a wind chime and a sword being drawn from its sheath. It was a sound She knew well, but there was something off about the aura surrounding it.

“Ghirahim,” She said, Her voice, though soft, echoing throughout the observation chamber, “you are distressed.” She turned to face the sword spirit. He was halfway into a bow, right hand positioned over the glistening, red diamond embedded into the golden markings that crossed over his stark white chest.

“Nothing escapes you, does it, Your Grace?” the spirit half jested.

Hylia approached the spirit, Her pale gown and platinum blond hair flowing behind Her. Truly nothing could match the beauty of the White Goddess.

“Tell me what troubles you, little blade,” She urged gently.

“It’s…rather trivial," the spirit stuttered. "I would rather not waste your time with such a-“

“Time has no meaning to us, Ghirahim,” the Goddess reminded him, “and your problems hold just as much significance as those of anyone else. So please, tell me.”

Ghirahim cleared his throat and fidgeted, a nervous habit he had recently developed. “It’s about this body…”

“Do you not like it?”

“No, no, Your Grace! I love it, truly, I do! But your subjects…don’t. You know better than anyone how humans behave around things that are…different…from themselves. Apparently, I am no exception. I have overheard them mocking me on many occasions. Even though you've assigned me to protect them, they treat me like a common beast.”

“I see,” Hylia said, nodding. “So you want a form that is more like theirs.”

“Yes,” the spirit answered, knowing he could not lie to his Mistress.

“Ghirahim, come to me.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Ghirahim floated toward the Goddess, halting directly before Her. She extended a glowing hand toward Her servant, touching Her index finger to the diamond on his forehead. The light grew more intense until it was too much even for the spirit’s eyes. He squeezed them shut.

“Open your eyes, my angel,” Hylia instructed after a moment.

_Angel._ The word echoed in Ghirahim’s mind. She had never called him that before. The spirit opened his eyes, only to find his vision half obstructed by something. The next thing he noticed was the slight draft of the temple. He shivered, unused to such a direct tactile sensation, as he lacked a nervous system.

“Come, take a look,” said the Goddess. Almost like a mother, She took Ghirahim by the hand and led him to the waterfall. The feeling of Her skin against his sent pleasant tingles up his arm. The image in the water shifted from that of a human village to display a young man with gray skin, wide, brown eyes, and hair the color of the moon that formed a curtain over the left side of his face. He was clad in a white tunic with a Triforce cut out of the front, white sleeves long enough to conceal his hands clamped around his biceps by golden rings, and white tights tucked into red boots that reached his knees. A blue diamond dangled from his left earlobe, and he wore a red, off-shoulder cape clasped to a larger, red diamond on his chest.

A large, red diamond on his chest… Ghirahim understood then that he was not looking at a random boy; he was looking at his own reflection. Hylia picked up on the angel’s realization and smiled.

“Is this form to your liking?” She inquired.

“Oh, yes,” the smaller being replied excitedly. “It’s gorgeous! Thank you, Your Grace! Though, I do apologize for troubling you with something so superficial.”

“Fret not, little blade,” Hylia said. She reached over to stroke Her angel’s hair, then allowed Her hand to travel down to his cheek. Warmth spread through the sword spirit, not just where Her flesh made contact with his, but everywhere. It felt nice. The sword spirit leaned into Her touch. His eyes slipped shut as his Mistress pressed Her lips to his forehead, and the warmth within him rose. “After all, what kind of leader would I be if I allowed my most loyal servant to be unhappy?"

The two divine beings heard heavy footsteps approaching as Link entered the chamber.

"Your Grace," he addressed the Goddess, bowing to Her, "the men stationed at Skyview Temple have reported several bokoblin spies in the area. They disposed of as many as they could, but they fear some survivors may have fled to their base to request backup. Permission to send reinforcements?"

"Permission granted," replied Hylia.

Link's eyes fell on Ghirahim, who was now standing beside Hylia. "Who is this?" the mortal asked.

Hylia chuckled and turned to Her servant. "Do you not recognize him?"

"Master, it's me!" Ghirahim said with a laugh.

Link's eyes widened. “Ghirahim!?"

The spirit twirled, showing off his new form to the swordsman. "Her Grace gave me a new body so the humans would trust me more. What do you think?"

The human approached Ghirahim in awe. He lifted a gloved hand to stroke a gray cheek. Ghirahim's skin was soft, no longer made of metal. A touch of purple spread across the angel's visible cheek, indicating that he now had blood, as well.

"It's magnificent..." the blonde breathed. The purple darkened. Link's hand left the spirit's face to take one of Ghirahim's own hands. Chapped lips pressed a kiss against the albino's knuckles, causing the recipient to stutter nonsense. "Even Her Grace Hylia pales in comparison to your new form."

"Choose your words wisely, my knight. I am right here," the Goddess jested.

Ghirahim's entire face was purple at that point. He yanked his hand away from Link's and flailed every which way as he tried to regain the coherency to speak.

"Y-you... I'm... A-a simple 'It looks good' would have sufficed!" he cried, hiding his burning face in his hands.

Link laughed, gently pulling Ghirahim's hands away from his face to press a kiss to his cheek. "I didn't mean to embarrass you." He pulled the angel into an embrace, reveling in the softness of his new hair as he ran his fingers through it. "Ghirahim, you're a creation of the Goddess. You look beautiful in any form."

Ghirahim rested his forehead on Link's shoulder, letting the metal plate there cool his face and basking in the warmth the rest of the human provided. "Thank you, Link."


	2. Follow My Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link meets Ghirahim Part 1. Hylian lyrics are completely made up.

Link was silent as Gaepora left his dorm room. He gripped at his hair. It was all his fault. He should have saved Zelda. He should have pulled her away from the tornado. He should have-

Then, he heard it; a voice, humming the melody of the Ballad of the Goddess. The voice was soft and airy, and Link could not determine if it was more masculine or feminine. It seemed to be a perfect blend of the two. There was also something...unnatural about the voice. The boy couldn't quite place it, but it was there. He had never heard anything like it before, yet somehow, it struck a familiar chord in him.

Link had read stories about creatures that lured men to their deaths with music. He knew he shouldn't follow the voice. He should just try to sleep, but curiosity got the best of him. Slipping his boots on and strapping his sword to his back - just in case - he slowly opened his door.

Although he could have sworn the voice was right outside his room, he saw no one in the corridor. Strangely enough, he could feel himself being drawn to the stairwell just to his right. After locking his door, Link ran up to the second floor of the academy and to the large, wooden double doors leading outside.

Link's eyes scanned the school roof for the source of the voice before finally landing on a figure by the top of the stairs connecting the main island to the statue of the Goddess. From what Link could see at such a distance, the figure was wearing mostly white, almost appearing to glow in the moonlight. He still couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman.

The person walked - no, danced - over to a ledge to the right of the stone arch and leaped down. Unable to shake off his curiosity, Link followed the stranger, listening for their voice. He followed the narrow stretch of land surrounding the base of the Goddess statue's island until he found the person again in a ditch, holding an angry remlit, stroking its head and ears despite its persistent clawing, still singing the Ballad of the Goddess.

_"En dah she'vu_  
_Nobe shuun 'tdu_  
_T'yeh shuudu_  
_Khe renu sah'ley."_

Link was now fairly certain the person was male, and he was beautiful. White hair glimmered in the moonlight, hiding his face from the blonde. His tunic, sleeves, and tights were pure white, as well. A golden sash was tied around his slim waist, a red cape draped around his shoulders. His movements were gentle and nurturing. If Link didn't know any better, he would have said the boy was an...

"Angel..."

The boy in white stopped singing mid-verse. Link slapped a hand over his mouth, other hand ready to draw his sword. The other boy made no move toward him. He simply lifted his head, turned ever-so-slightly toward him, and giggled. Carefully setting the now sleeping remlit on the ground, he turned his back to Link and jumped up the entire length of the ledge on the other end of the ditch, landing gracefully and twirling out of sight.

Link continued his chase, following the light laughter and glimpses of red he caught as the stranger turned a corner. Eventually, Link found himself at the rear of the Goddess Statue. The albino led him to the front, laughing one last time as he snapped his fingers and vanished into a shower of glittering, golden triangles.

The bird-like crest on the front of the statue glowed briefly before a section of the stone faded out of existence, creating a doorway. Sword hand at the ready, Link cautiously entered the statue.


	3. An Agent of the Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link meets Ghirahim Part 2. And yes, I altered the colors of the Goddess Sword (and later the Master Sword) to match Ghirahim's colors.

The interior of the Goddess statue was empty, save for a crest identical to the one on the door floating in the back and a slightly elevated platform, a pedestal with a red-hilted sword in the center. Light pulsated around the sword. Link flinched in surprise as a ball of pure, white energy popped out of the sword, quickly taking shape and color, before landing gracefully before the blade.

It was the boy who had led Link to the statue. He was looking directly at him now, smiling. His eyes - eye? - were a light shade of brown, his bottom lip was painted white. He had a narrow nose, delicate, rounded features, and seemed to lack eyebrows. A red, diamond-shaped gem embedded into his chest held his cape together. Link's jaw dropped. The boy really was gorgeous.

"It's impolite to stare," the white-clad stranger spoke, a jovial spring in his accented voice indicating that he was joking.

"S-sorry..." Link replied, shifting his gaze to the side.

The albino chuckled. "You weren't too far off, you know." Link gave him a questioning look. "When you called me an angel, I mean." He shifted one foot in front of the other and bent at the waist in a bow. "I am the spirit that dwells within this sword; an agent assigned to you, o chosen hero, by the Goddess Hylia. I am to aid you on the grand journey you are about to undertake. You may call me Ghirahim."

Link's head spun. "Grand journey? Chosen hero?"

"I'll explain everything in time, I promise. Now come, Link." Ghirahim gestured to the sword in the pedestal. "Take up this sword. As the one chosen by my creator, it is your destiny."

Link made no move toward Ghirahim or the sword. The spirit sighed before offering the blonde another smile.

"I understand that this is a lot to take in," he said. "And I understand your hesitation to follow the instructions of a stranger, especially considering the circumstances prior to my sudden appearance. However, I have some information that may quell your worries, about me and your friend Zelda."

That caught Link's attention. His ears perked, and his eyes widened.

"What do you know?" he demanded.

"She's alive and well, that I can assure you." Link sighed in relief.

She's okay...

"And," Ghirahim continued, "Her G- err, Zelda…is another chosen one fated to be part of the same mission. You want to see her again, I can tell. But you must take up this sword before you set out to find her. Did that change your mind at all?"

Link rushed toward Ghirahim and the sword. The spirit lifted himself off the ground, laughing on the way up, floating almost parallel to the floor. Link's throat went dry as the moonlight filtering into the statue cascaded over the albino, making him appear to glow once more. His hair swayed slightly as he hovered up and down.

"Honestly, I was expecting you to be a little more stubborn, but I guess this makes my job easier. Now, in the name of the Goddess, draw the sword and raise it skyward."

"So, if I do this, I'll get to see Zelda again?" Link asked.

"Yes," Ghirahim replied. "Even if you don't cross paths with her during your quest, you will most certainly be reunited afterward."

"I'll do it, then."

"Wonderful!" the spirit exclaimed, clapping his hands together excitedly.

Link passed under Ghirahim, wrapped his hands tightly around the hilt of the sword, and pulled. The sword came out with no effort. The blonde stumbled backward, steadying himself before he reached the edge of the platform. The blade was fairly small. It was slightly heavier than his Academy-issued sword, but still clearly a one-handed weapon. For some reason, holding this sword felt more natural than holding the one he'd been trained to use.

Deciding not to dwell on it, Link raised the blade to the sky.


	4. Fi in Skyview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link's first encounter with Fi.
> 
> Font key:
> 
> _ **"Ghirahim speaking from within the sword"** _   
_'Link speaking telepathically to Ghirahim'_   
_Link thinking to himself_

“Ghirahim, please tell me this is the last room,” Link said, exasperated.

_**“It is,”**_ the spirit replied from inside Link’s sword. _**“I can sense Zelda’s presence just beyond that door.”**_

“Oh, thank Hylia.” The blonde hurried toward the large, golden door on the other side of the circular room.

“Master, wait! There’s something el-"

Ghirahim was interrupted by a flash of blinding light. In a second, it was gone. Link blinked a few times. Once his eyes readjusted, he saw a young woman with metallic, blue skin and spiky, black hair dressed in a lopsided, violet cape standing in front of the door. The girl’s gaze was focused on the door. Her right arm was held out, a solid black rapier in hand as if to act as a barrier between Link and the exit.

They were both still for a moment until the girl lowered her arm and her blade disintegrated into nothing.

“You are alive,” she said, back still facing Link. Her voice was youthful, but held a smooth, eloquent tone, with the same accent as Ghirahim's. The way she spoke was cold, unfeeling. The sheer absence of emotion sent a chill down Link’s spine.

She turned to face him before continuing. Even her eyes were the same color and texture as her skin. There was a small, diamond-shaped marking under her right one. “Curious. The tornado I summoned should have killed you.”

_So it was her,_ Link thought, rage beginning to boil within him.

She turned her attention back to the door. “No matter. All I require is the girl. I know she is here in the spring.”

“Who are you?” Link asked, preparing to draw his sword.

“That is of no concern to you,” the girl responded. “You are not part of my mission, human. I refuse to waste my time with you.”

Link removed the Goddess Sword from its sheath. The girl didn’t even flinch at the sound. She simply turned to face the boy once again, looking almost bored.

“Fine,” she spat. “If it is so imperative that you learn my name, my official title is Demon Lady Fi, ruler of this land your people refer to as the Surface, and I may as well inform you that I am not in a very good mood at the moment. The girl was in my clutches, but her servant managed to break her free and bring her here. So I highly suggest you put your sword away and leave immediately. This is not something you want to involve yourself with.”

“Yeah, it is,” Link shot back. “That girl you’re after is my friend. If you think I’m about to let you take her, then you’re in for a bad time, lady.”

“Do you truly think I care what your relationship is with her? I will give you one last chance, boy. Lay down your weapon and go home. You stand no chance against me.”

_ **“Master Link…”** _

_‘Ghirahim? What is it?'_

_ **“I have an idea. Keep her busy until Zelda can get away. Do not let her through that door!”** _

_‘Oh, I’ll do more than just keep this bitch busy.’_

_ **“Master, I’m afraid she’s right. Your current skill level isn’t enough to beat her.”** _

_‘Don’t care. As long as I can keep Zelda safe, I’m up for anything.’_

Link took up a fighting stance. “I’m not going anywhere, blueberry.”

_ **“That’s the best you could come up with?”** _

_‘I really don’t need your sass right now, Ghirahim!’_

“Very well,” replied Fi. She snapped her fingers, summoning her rapier once again. “Then I will simply have to dispose of you."


	5. Battle in Skyview

_ **“Well, this battle is going more horrendously than I anticipated.”** _

Link just barely rolled out of the way of another flurry of daggers Fi had summoned out of thin air after teleporting behind him. Trails of blue light chased after them over the Skyloftian’s head.

_‘No, really!? I never would’ve guessed!’_

The hero’s tunic was torn in several places from narrowly-avoided swipes of Fi’s sword. Blood seeped out of the cuts where her blows landed. He had no more potions. The only weapon that seemed to even make her flinch was the Goddess Sword. Everything hurt. But he couldn’t give up, not when Zelda was counting on him.

Link took another swipe at Fi, only for her to catch the blade between two fingers. The Skyloftian tried to wrench it out of her grasp, but she was too strong. With the slightest tug, the sword was ripped out of Link’s hand.

“So,” she said. It took Link a moment to realize that she was addressing the sword and not him. It was the first time she’d spoken for the entire fight. “This is your new master? How sad. I almost pity you.” She raised her eyes to the exhausted hero standing before her with his shield raised. He was afraid, she could tell. But something was off. Something was _missing._

Link flinched as Fi went stiff, the creases outlining her eyes widening slightly as she whipped her head toward the door.

“She is gone!” the demon exclaimed. “I should have known… You were merely a distraction, you insolent…” She regained her composure and shot a glare at Link, drawing back the Goddess Sword to strike. With a single swing, she knocked the hero’s shield away from him. Before he had time to recover, the Goddess Sword was thrust straight through his heart until the tip poked out from between his shoulder blades.

_**“MASTER!!”**_ Ghirahim cried from within the sword.

Link gasped and dropped to his knees, struggling to breathe as blood spilled from his mouth. He couldn’t even scream. As his energy drained, he fell to his side, still gasping and choking.

Fi looked down at him with indifference as he suffered. “You will not interfere again,” she said, watching as the light slowly left the boy’s blue eyes. Once all sound and movement ceased, only then did she vanish into a flurry of blue, black, and violet diamonds with a snap of her fingers.

Ghirahim burst from the Goddess Sword and knelt beside his master's lifeless body, tears streaming down his face. Not only was his master dead, it was by _his own blade._ His vessel had been used to _kill his own master._ This wasn't the time to grieve. He had to act fast. Trying futilely to blink away his tears, the spirit frantically rummaged through the pouches on Link’s belt until he found it: a glass bottle in which a little, pink fairy fluttered about. He pulled the blade out of Link’s body and opened the cork, releasing the winged little ball of light.

“Please,” he begged, “you have to save him! If you bring him back, you’re free to go. I’ll see to it that he never bothers you again! Just…please…” He broke down into a sobbing fit as he saw the fairy nod. “Thank you!”

The fairy hovered above Link’s corpse, sprinkling pink dust over his wounds. His organs stitched themselves back together, then the muscle, then skin, and finally his clothing. Ghirahim nodded his thanks as the fairy took off. “Goodbye!” he called.

Link jolted upright, gasping awkwardly as his lungs kicked back in. He looked himself up and down.

“And welcome back,” Ghirahim said shakily, tears of relief spilling from his eyes.

“I’m alive…” said Link. He grunted as he was tackled back to the floor by a crying sword spirit. He laughed and patted the albino’s back.

Eventually, Ghirahim calmed down, lifting himself off the ground and wiping his tears on his sleeves. “We should be going, Master,” he said. “Zelda has moved on. We must find her before Fi does.”

“Yeah,” the blonde agreed, “let’s get out of here.” With that, Ghirahim retreated back into the sword still stained with its chosen wielder’s blood before Link made his way to the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, fairies. Such wonderful little creatures of deus ex machina.


	6. Does It Hurt?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What starts out as an innocent question turns into something deeply personal.

The stars shone overhead, farther above than Link had ever seen them. He was sitting cross-legged by a small fire, camping out in a relatively safe area of Faron Woods. He could easily have gone home to rest, but he enjoyed looking up at the sky through the trees rather than seeing it all around him. His weapons rested against a nearby tree except for the Goddess Sword, which he kept by his side. He turned to the sword.

“Hey, Ghirahim?” he called.

_**“Yes, Master?”**_ the spirit responded from within the blade.

“Could you come out for a bit? I’d like to talk to you face-to-face.”

_**“Of course.”**_ Ghirahim emerged from the sword and knelt down on the grass next to Link. “What did you want to talk about?”

Link stared at the fire, looking distressed. “There’s something that’s been bothering me,” said the blonde.

Ghirahim’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What is it?”

“Does it hurt you?” inquired the Skyloftian. "When I use you to fight?”

The sword spirit’s expression shifted from worry to confusion before it clicked.

“Oh,” he said. _“Oh!”_ And then he laughed. His master was adorable! Although this really was Ghirahim's own fault for not explaining exactly what he was. In retrospect, he should have expected this. Link gave him a confused look, big, blue eyes filled with curiosity and cheeks going pink at the melodic sound of his companion’s laughter.

Once Ghirahim calmed down, he smiled at the other. “Is that all?” he asked, still giggling. “And here I thought you were going to abandon your search for Zelda!” Ghirahim wouldn’t have blamed him. He just _died,_ after all. But then he remembered exactly _why_ this boy was his master. He’d seen the mark on his left hand proving it. He did his best to compose himself. “But to answer your question, no. I can’t actually feel anything when I’m inside the sword. I am not the sword, and the sword is not me. I’m more like…" He fiddled with one of his sleeves as he tried to figure out how to put it into words, “...a power source. Yes, that’s it! I’m a physical manifestation of the magic imbued into the blade.”

Link nodded, almost certain he understood. “So the Goddess Sword is just a sword with sentient magic that can make itself look like a person?” he asked just to clarify.

“Exactly!”

“Are there other swords like that?”

Ghirahim’s smile fell. He looked down at his lap. “There is one other blade like the Goddess Sword. However, the being that dwells within it is made of pure malice and contempt, because the one who forged the sword was a creature who wanted nothing more than total destruction and to paint the land red with the blood of the innocent.”

“Demise,” Link whispered as if saying the name any louder would summon the Demon King himself.

“Yes,” Ghirahim answered just as quietly. "Demise’s sword is the complete antithesis of the Goddess Sword and the spirit that dwells within it my opposite. The blade has the power to corrupt any who would try to wield it. Only those with the blackest of hearts can use it to its full potential. Anyone else would be overwhelmed by the dark energy of the sword spirit inside and driven to madness.”

For a moment, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the chirping of crickets.

“Do you know the other sword spirit?” Link spoke.

“Unfortunately,” the albino replied. “I think I know where the sword is, as well.”

“Can we go find it?” Link asked. Before Ghirahim could accuse him of insanity, the Skyloftian rushed to explain himself, holding his hands up defensively. “Maybe it can be destroyed! If it’s so evil, then we shouldn’t just leave it laying around, right? It’s not like Demise is going to have any need of it since he’ll be dead soon.”

“That is a wonderful sentiment, Master,” said the sword spirit, “but the sword has to exist for now.”

“Why?” the hero asked, tilting his head.

Ghirahim sighed. “In short, because _I’m_ still here.”

“What does that mean?”

“It would take far too long to explain, and you need rest.” Not wanting to speak anymore, Ghirahim retreated into the sword.

Link doused the fire with water from the nearby pond and laid down on the grass.

"G'night, Ghirahim,” he said.

“Good night, Master."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ghirahim is _fine,_ guys, don't worry!
> 
> I'm taking a lot of liberties with the lore of the game here (because Zelda games in general require a good amount of suspension of disbelief) but trying not to diverge too much from canon outside of the obvious Ghirahim and Fi switching roles. Basically when Ghirahim says that Demise's sword has to exist because Ghirahim and the Goddess Sword exist, it's because if one were to be destroyed before the other, it would rupture the balance of the world. Sort of like a yin-yang thing. We all know what happens to Fi at the end of the game, which already spoils what's going to happen to Ghirahim at the end of this story. In order to safely get rid of Demise's sword and do away with Fi, Ghirahim will need to sacrifice his own consciousness.
> 
> See, Ghirahim, it didn't take that long!


	7. Scrapper Rebooted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I guess Scrapper's gay in this AU. Oh, well. Though is it really gay if they’re both technically sexless? Yes? I’m gonna go with yes.

Link hurried to the bazaar to see Gondo. He had a feeling that Lanayru robot he was always seen working on could help him bring the missing windmill propeller back to Skyloft. He strolled up to Gondo's booth and offered a salutation.

"Hey, kid!" he bellowed. “What's up? You look like you need to get something off your chest... I know what it is. You've got a favor to ask me, right?"

"You guessed it," replied Link with a lopsided grin. "Actually, it's about that... statue on the shelf back there." He pointed to the fossilized robot.

"Huh? This old robot my grandpa used to tinker around with?" Gondo huffed and crossed his arms. "Oh, I see. You probably just came here to make fun of the crazy junk guy for believing in his grandpa's stupid stories, right? Well, get in line... I've heard it before."

Link shook his head. "No, no, that's not it! I need that thing to help me retrieve something from below the cloud barrier."

"W-wait, really?!" the mechanic said. "Do you know what that means?! That means... you believe in my grandpa's stories, too, don't you?!"

"Oh, more than you know."

"Well, I'm happy to hear that someone else believes me, but I don't think I can help you. You see, my grandpa's old robot... What's it called again..." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Oh, hey, that's right... I remember! His name is Scrapper. He may not be much to look at these days... But he was an amazing robot once! When you called him, he would go anywhere and haul anything!" He looked back at the robot. "Sadly, as you can see now... he's just another busted ol' hunk of junk." He turned back to Link. "But old Gramps did tell me this: you can get him working again with the extract from an Ancient Flower. It's like oil to this guy. But I've never even heard of, let alone seen, any such thing!"

Link's mind clicked almost instantly. He had collected some Ancient Flowers in Lanayru. He thanked Hylia for the Timeshift Stones because they were probably extinct now before pulling one out of his pouch.

"I think I know what you're talking about. I found a few! Here!"

Gondo studied the flower for a moment before reeling back in disbelief. "That's the one, alright! Are you kiddin' me?! That's amazing!" Gondo took the flower and got right to work.

Moments later, Scrapper was as good as new. He sprouted a propeller from his head and hovered in the air.

"Thank you, BZZRT!" said the robot with a tinny voice. "I've got a full tank of energy and I'm ready to carry anything, zzzt!" He twirled around in midair until his gaze landed on Link. "Huh? Who is this green-clad individual of small stature?"

Link shot the robot a glare. Gondo, on the other hand, couldn't be more ecstatic.

"WHOA!" exclaimed the mechanic. "It talked! Can you believe that? I guess I really did fix him!" Regaining his composure, Gondo directed his attention to Scrapper. "This kid gave me the materials I needed to fix you. Go on! Say thank you!"

Some buzzing and static noises burst from Scrapper before he responded. "Hmm... Are you sure it was him?"

Link's brows furrowed even further.

_‘Why, this little-'_

_**"Be nice,"**_ Ghirahim reprimanded from within the Goddess Sword.

"Well then," Scrapper continued, "I extend my reluctant thanks to you in a gesture of obligatory gratitude." A loud clank marked the end of the robot's sentence.

_ **"...Though I won't blame you if you ‘accidentally' lose your grip on me and take a few swipes at him."** _

"Heyyyy now! Watch it!" Gondo scolded. "That's no way to talk to someone who just saved your life! Anyway, this kid wants you to haul some stuff around, and you're going to help him!"

Scrapper let out a mechanical huff. "This individual may have restored my operations, but I am not inclined to offer assistance. Serving children is very low on my task priority!"

_ **"Okay, I'm ending this now."** _

_'Please do before I turn this piece of scrap metal back into a rock.'_

Ghirahim emerged from Link's sword, landing gracefully before him and Gondo.

"Master Link," he began, "Using materials from the windmill, I've managed to find the propeller. You can now select it as a dowsing target." He turned to give Scrapper a polite smile. "And with Scrapper's help, we can easily get it back to Skyloft."

"Who are you?!" Scrapper exclaimed.

Ghirahim chuckled. "My name is Ghirahim. It's nice to meet you. Though I do wish you would be a bit more respectful toward my master." Link extended a look of gratitude toward the albino.

"Ghirahim, you say?" Scrapper inquired, ignoring the sword spirit's last sentence. "Should I call you Master Ghirahim? Are you looking for something, Master Ghirahim?"

A tint of purple colored the spirit's cheeks. "Oh! W-well, um, yes, we are looking for something."

"I understand. At your request, I will carry anything, regardless of its weight or destination..." Scrapper emitted more buzzing sounds as he bounced around excitedly.

"How sweet of you!" Ghirahim said. "Then you'd be willing to help us bring back a propeller from beneath the clouds?"

"If that is your request, Master Ghirahim." The sword spirit's blush deepened as he nodded.

"W-well, we shouldn't waste any more time!" Ghirahim blurted out hurriedly "I trust you know what to do, Master." And with that, he disappeared back into Link's sword. For some reason, it felt warm against his back.

_‘What the hell was tha-‘_

_ **“Not another word.”** _

_‘I was just-‘_

_ **“MASTER."** _

_‘Ghirahim, are you-'_

_ **“The propeller is in the Eldin region. Shut up and go find it.”** _

Deciding not to push the subject, Link bade Gondo a quick farewell and trudged out of the bazaar with Scrapper following.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone's feeling a little _tsun tsun,_ huh, Ghirahim? Nah, he doesn't actually like Scrapper. He's just bad at handling compliments. The sword warming up is Ghirahim's embarrassment becoming so overwhelming it carries over into the physical weapon.


	8. Into the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link heads into the Thunderhead to figure out where to find the three Sacred Flames that will transform the Goddess Sword into the Master Sword.

“Thank you very much!” Ghirahim said as Scrapper dropped off the pinwheel, waving and smiling a bit too cheerfully to be genuine as he flew off.

“I really hope we don’t have to deal with him again,” Link grumbled.

“I agree,” replied the albino, exchanging his smile for a scowl. “No amount of compliments he pays me will negate how shamelessly rude he was to you."

“Whoa!” Jakamar interrupted the conversation. “Isn’t that…the beat-up old robot form Gondo’s place?!”

“Yes, that’s correct,” answered the sword spirit, grateful for the diversion.

“Wait just a second…” Jakamar turned his attention to the propeller on the ground between himself and Link. “Is that… It is! That’s the windmill propeller! That thing was supposed to have fallen down below the clouds!” He raised his head back up toward the blonde, stars in his eyes. “Are you saying that whole story handed down through Gondo’s family was actually true?”

“It is,” said Link. “I’ve been to the Surface.”

“Several times, in fact!” added Ghirahim.

Jakamar narrowed his eyes at the other two. “Hmm… Somehow I get the feeling this is all some elaborate prank, but I guess I’ll try to fix this thing…” He lifted the propeller with a bit of difficulty and fitted it into the windmill. Moments later, he was fairly certain he had it.

He stood up straight and wiped the sweat off his brow. “Phew! That ought to do it! If you can find some way to spin the propeller, you can probably turn the windmill around. Good luck with that, though. That thing weighs a ton!”

Link nodded. “Thanks a bunch, Jakamar!” he said. The three all jumped as a shrill voice pierced the air.

“Honeeeeey! Honeeeey?” called the voice. A look of guilt crossed over Jakamar’s face.

“Oh no," he muttered. “I think I might have promised my wife I’d fix our cupboard! I swear that woman’s always looking for somebody.” He hurried away, throwing a “See you, around, Link!” over his shoulder.

Link and Ghirahim watched the carpenter disappear, the latter giggling.

“I see the dynamics of marriage haven’t changed much while I was gone,” said the albino. “It seems human men will always be the same.”

Without thinking, Link responded with “Don’t be so sure. If I made a commitment to you, _I_ wouldn’t forget.”

The spirit’s face went purple at that. “Wh-what?”

“What,” Link echoed, blushing alongside the angel as he realized the implication of what he'd just said. “Uh, I mean-!” He floundered for something to say but could find nothing.

Ghirahim’s eye went every direction except Link’s. “I’ll, um… I’ll be in the sword,” he said, disappearing into the Goddess Sword. The rapidly heating metal nearly burned Link’s back as the Skyloftian pulled out the Gust Bellows and blasted a steady stream of air at the propeller. Surely enough, the windmill began to rotate. Once the fan faced the Tower of Light on the other side of the river, it halted, clanging loudly into place.

Link followed the new direction of the windmill with his eyes and watched in awe as a small stage arose from atop the tower. Curiosity pulling him along, he rushed across the bridge and scaled the ladders of the tower. There he discovered a large mirror and a circular pattern with that strange birdlike symbol in the center that he recognized as something he needed to activate with music. He pulled out the lyre Zelda had given him at the Gate of Time. At the same time, Ghirahim reemerged from his sword, seemingly having calmed down, and floated just above the opposite side of the stage from Link. A circle of light pulsed on the floor between them.

“Play for me,” he said, a lilt of excitement in his voice.

Link nodded and began to pluck at the strings in time with the light, pulling together the notes of the Ballad of the Goddess. Ghirahim sang along with the sound of the lyre, his voice returning to that blend of masculine and feminine that Link had heard when he first met the angel. His hand nearly faltered on the golden instrument as the sword spirit’s voice once again captivated him like some kind of siren call, but he closed his eyes, let himself sink into the music, and persisted without missing a note.

_"En dah she'vu  
Nobe shuun 'tdu  
T'yeh shuudu  
Khe renu sah'ley_

_En dah she'vu  
Nobe shuun 'tdu  
T'yeh shuudu  
Nobe rey soh’n buu-shie"_

As Link played and Ghirahim sang, small pillars of white light rose up around them, and the bird symbol glowed progressively brighter, reflecting in the mirror. After a short eternity of warrior and weapon joined together in song, at the final pluck of strings and the finishing note, the two were surrounded by columns of light. The stage rotated until the mirror faced the menacing half-sphere of the Thunderhead in the distance. The skylight of the ceiling hit the glass and shot through it, all the way to the swirling mass of clouds, illuminating an opening in the dome.

Shaking his head to clear away his wonder at the display, Ghirahim turned toward the human.

“Master!” he said, a wide smile on his face. “I believe we’ve found the key to locating the Sacred Flames!”

Link responded with a bright smile of his own. “Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Ghirahim returned to the sword as his master leaped from the Tower of Light, whistling for his loftwing. He heard the familiar reply of his bird before she appeared below him to catch him on her back. With a renewed sense of adventure, they soared toward the Thunderhead. As he approached, Link had to close his eyes from the bright light.

He opened his eyes once the light died down, only for them to widen as much as they could with the wind whipping in his face. His whole life, he had thought there was nothing but chaos inside the Thunderhead. Now that he was actually inside the cloud vortex, it was like looking at a miniature, storm-ridden Skyloft. There were small islands scattered around the dome. The beam of light he had followed there continued into the Thunderhead, glowing brightly until it hit a tower toward the middle of the cloud mass.

After urging his loftwing forward and dodging strange, flying monsters, he reached the tower, only to see nowhere to land. He settled for the small island surrounded by chunks of land and covered with oddly geometric stones nearby. He dropped off of his loftwing, using the sailcloth to ease his descent. Once he stuffed the sailcloth back into its pouch, he heard Ghirahim’s voice from within the Goddess Sword.

_**“I…I remember this place…”**_ he said. Link was unsure whether the spirit was talking to himself until he spoke again. _**“Yes! Master! This is called the Isle of Songs! Her Grace Hylia left this here for you to find. But…I can’t remember the way into the tower. Maybe there’s a clue on this island. Look around and see what you can find.”**_

Link observed the small circle of floating land and took note of four things: the three geometric stones were on what appeared to be tracks, there were larger stones blocking the tracks, there was a mechanism in the center that was clearly a lever, and next to that was another mechanism with three crystals - one blue, two green. Link pushed the lever to see what would happen.

As he expected, the stones moved along their tracks. What he hadn’t expected was for the small pieces of land to begin circling the island with them.

_Okay,_ Link thought. _So these stones are connected to the chunks of land floating around this thing. When all three are connected, they’ll likely form a bridge. Those crystals probably determine which stones I can move with the lever, and I need to figure out how to get them all between me and that tower while also working around those walls._

With that knowledge, Link got to work. Once he discovered that slashing at a certain crystal with his sword would shift the colors (and also moved the walls), it was only a few moments until he had successfully put together the bridge. He briefly applauded himself, hearing Ghirahim cheer for him from within the sword, and rushed into the tower.


	9. Woodland Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link learns Farore's Courage. And that Ghirahim is an excellent dancer.

The tower, like the inside of the Goddess statue, was empty, save for a ramp leading into an abyss and a small platform in the center with that birdlike symbol floating above it. Link raised his blade skyward and sent a beam of light at it, sending it spinning and causing it to glow. He felt the ground rumble and the sound of a choir approaching from the darkness below.

Another statue of Hylia rose, her mouth opening and closing as she repeated three notes of a song. Ghirahim burst out of the sword and floated before the statue. The glow from the tower’s skylight cascaded upon him like a spotlight.

“Master Link! When you struck that crest, it jogged my memories a bit! The Goddess left me a message she wanted me to relay to you.” He shifted into a pose, bending one leg until the sole of his boot was level with the other knee, leaning his chest back, grasping one end of his cape in each hand and extending his arms out behind him, as if he was frozen in the middle of a dance. When he spoke again, his voice had taken on a more feminine tone.

_“He who seeks the Sacred Flames, listen well, for I guide you from my place at the edge of time.”_ Ghirahim turned once and shifted his pose, pausing again with one arm stretched straight above his head and the other bent to touch his other elbow and his torso leaning to one side in a way that had the opposite hip jutting out. _“The Sacred Flames are three in number. To earn them, you must also earn relics known as the Three Sacred Gifts. For each trial you overcome, you shall be blessed with one of the gifts…”_ Ghirahim hopped in midair and began to twirl as he spoke recited the final part of the message, gripping his cape again so it fanned out around him. _“Make use of the power of these gifts, and you will find your way to the purifying Sacred Flames. Now, I bestow upon you a melody. It will serve you as a key, opening the first trial that awaits you deep in the wilds of Faron Woods.”_

Link pulled out Zelda’s lyre as the sound of flutes and drums began to emit from the Goddess Statue. Hands moving seemingly on their own, Link plucked along to the music. The tune was lively and joyful. It brought to mind a forest breathing and bustling with all sorts of life. Leaves swinging in the wind, butterflies and dragonflies zooming about through the air, the kikwis scurrying around the forest floor. Link’s hands continued to move of their own accord as he watched his spirit companion dance along to the music. Gravity seemed to shift for Ghirahim as he hopped and flipped gleefully along the wall before flinging himself back into the air, engulfed in a cheerful green glow, skipping on nothing.

At last, the melody ended, and Ghirahim glided back down to Link’s level, the green aura surrounding him fading out of existence. Link stared in awe at the lyre. He had never even heard that piece before! How had he been able to play it? He was snapped out of his thoughts by Ghirahim, whose voice was now back to normal.

“That song is called Farore’s Courage,” he explained. “Its rousing melody will guide you.” He skated over thin air to land on the ramp next to his master as the statue sunk back into the darkness. “You remember what Her Grace’s message said. Use that song to unlock the trial in Faron Woods. I remember it well, now. I can dowse for the trial gate so you know where in the woods to play it.” He flashed Link an innocent smile. “Well, I’m ready when you are!” The angel disappeared into the Goddess sword once again, and Link made his way out of the tower feeling rejuvenated and ready to face whatever awaited him in Faron Woods.

_'You're a really good dancer, by the way,'_ Link communicated to Ghirahim as his loftwing sped away from the Thunderhead. He laughed as the Goddess Sword warmed his back again and flew toward the green pillar of light piercing the Cloud Barrier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted Goddess Sword!Ghirahim's dancing style to be different from canon Fi's ballet and canon Ghirahim's...whatever the fuck he does. So his dancing style is going to be based more on various forms of traditional gypsy dancing and belly dancing.


	10. Trial of Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This episode, we get to see into Ghirahim's head a little. While Link is literally stuck in his own head testing his courage, Ghirahim is figuratively stuck in his own head dealing with his fear of admitting his feelings for his master. Once again, Hylian lyrics are totally made up. They're mostly just based on the phonetics of what I can make out from Fi's singing in the game.
> 
> And yes, I'm going to continue calling the instrument a lyre because it's a fucking lyre, not a harp. Nintendo.

_**“There!”**_ Ghirahim’s voice drifted from the Goddess Sword as Link approached the swirling circle of soil in Faron Woods. _**“Pull out Zelda’s lyre to reveal the gateway.”**_

Link did as the angel instructed. He plucked a random note to test the instrument, and a small, green pedestal with a triangle in the center emerged from the soil. Ghirahim similarly emerged from the sword to float above the pedestal, a ring of light pulsated beneath him.

“You know what to do,” he said with a smile.

Link strummed the lyre in time with the light ring. Ghirahim seemed to be doing vocal exercises as he did so. One by one, strips of light that looked like flower petals began to lay themselves out around the pedestal. Once it was surrounded, Ghirahim gave his Master a knowing grin and sucked in a breath as the Skyloftian prepared to play. The world around them seemed to fade out of existence, but neither weapon nor master paid it any mind.

Using the golden instrument, Link performed Farore’s Courage with ease. This time, rather than dancing, Ghirahim sang along with the strings.

_“R’yeh tessa voh sie’t relei  
Lea’frey vuu so’h f’yi deh-so’h lyu  
T’yeh lyu veh-s’eh  
R’yu-vie rahn vossu selei n’yuu”_

The world outside the soil circle returned as the song ended.

“This strange little thing on the ground seems to be reacting to our performance,” the sword spirit informed the blonde. “Just as I thought. I’m almost 100% certain this is a Trial Gate. Just as Her Grace’s message said on the Isle of Songs! Thrust your sword into the center of this mark, and it should lead you to the Trial of Farore.” With that, Ghirahim returned to the sword.

Link stepped up to the little pedestal, unsheathed the Goddess Sword, raised it high above his head, and struck downward.

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but turning to liquid was certainly not among the list. He could feel his body pulling itself apart and putting itself back together. What struck him as odd, though, was that there was no pain. In fact, there was nothing. Nothing but white, then black, a sensation of floating. Then, everything came creeping back, but it was different.

The Hero looked around. He was still in Faron Woods, but everything was bathed in a silvery light and completely still. There was no sound at all. No rustling of leaves, no singing of birds. A sense of uneasiness fell over him like a heavy blanket.

The Hero felt almost weightless and soon realized all of his weapons were gone.

_ **“Master Link.”** _

The sound of Ghirahim's voice cut so harshly through the total silence of this place that it startled the Hero. He looked around frantically for his companion but could find him nowhere.

_**“It’s as I feared,”**_ the sword spirit continued. _**“I cannot follow you into this realm. This trial is one you must face within your own mind and soul.”**_ So that explained the lack of weapons. _**“Such is the nature of these places called the Silent Realms. They are domains of the spirit; accessible only to the Goddess’s Chosen Hero.”**_

_Silent Realm,_ the Hero thought. _How fitting._

_**“This particular trial, Farore’s Silent Realm, is meant to test the boundaries of your courage,”**_ Ghirahim’s voice resumed. _**“Currently, your spirit and your body are separate, that you may properly undertake this challenge. To find the Sacred Flame that will strengthen your sword, you must overcome this trial and achieve spiritual growth.”**_

The Hero felt something form within his chest, and soon that thing was forming without his chest. It took the shape of a white flower with fifteen crystal containers shaped like water droplets dangling from its stem, still attached to his chest.

_**“That is your spirit vessel,”**_ Ghirahim informed him from the real world. _**“Only when all fifteen crystals are full with the Tears of Farore will you be allowed to return to the physical world and seek the Flame. It will be your proof of spiritual growth and bless you with a new power. The Tears are the little green orbs scattered throughout these woods. In fact, there’s one right in front of you.”**_

The Hero had indeed seen the green orb, floating just a few steps outside of the ring of light that surrounded him. Before he could so much as twitch forward, Ghirahim’s voice halted him.

_**“Not so hasty, Master!”**_ he warned. _**“This is called a trial for a reason! You see that white statue not too far from the Tear, yes?”**_ The Hero looked past the Tear and noticed the figure standing at the top of the steps of the lookout tower. _**“That is a Guardian. They are stationed all throughout the Silent Realm. As soon as you take one step out of the protective circle you now stand in, they will awaken and pursue you.**_

_ **If a Guardian lands even a single blow, your spirit will be shattered, and you will fail the trial. However, each time you fill a crystal in your Spirit Vessel, the Guardians will rest until all the petals turn red, or you come into contact with the Waking Water or are caught in the light of a lantern.”** _

“I understand,” the Hero said, holding back the urge to shudder as his voice echoed and distorted in the shimmering air if the Silent Realm.

_**“Then may the Goddess watch over you,”**_ Ghirahim replied. _**“And, Master…please be careful.”**_

The Hero nodded, unsure if Ghirahim could see him, and steeled himself for his task. He approached the edge of the glowing circle, pausing for only a second before swallowing his apprehension and taking the final step. Once he was outside the circle, everything turned to chaos. The sky was stained red, and as the Guardians woke, the air was permeated by a clanging so loud it hurt the Hero’s ears. He rushed forward and snatched the first Tear, watching it disintegrate into the flower sprouting from his chest. The world turned silent and silvery once again, and the flower petals of his Spirit Vessel returned to white. He watched as the first petal faded into a blood red color before realizing he was wasting precious seconds.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

Ghirahim sat outside the Goddess Sword, guarding his Master’s unconscious body, fidgeting with everything within reach. The longer his Master remained in the Silent Realm, the more anxious he felt. Once Link had left the protective circle, Ghirahim had lost the ability to communicate with him.

He always knew he would hate this part, ever since Hylia described it to him a millennium ago. His dear Master, trapped within his own mind, fighting with his own spirit, and Ghirahim had no way of knowing if he was okay. Ghirahim was well aware that even though they carried the same soul, this boy was not the same person as his original Master, but in the angel’s eyes, they were still equal.

This Link was softer and a bit more clumsy than his rugged, battle-hardened predecessor, but he was kinder and gentler, as well. This Master had a clear set of morals. He was protective like Ghirahim’s previous Master, but it was a more subtle kind of protectiveness. And while he lacked his predecessor’s charm, the sword spirit couldn’t deny that this Link was infinitely sweeter.

Ghirahim wasn’t sure when his feelings for his Master evolved from admiration to something…warmer. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment his adoration for Link had gone beyond just part of his programming. But at some point, it had, and Ghirahim found that he didn’t quite mind his helplessness in the matter.

The spirit realized he was blushing and tried to calm himself. He doubled his efforts when Link began to move again. The Skyloftian stood and plucked the Goddess Sword out of the ground to return it to its sheath. His blue eyes, glowing with a renewed fierceness, locked onto his spirit companion. There was a shimmer of enlightenment in his eyes that gave Ghirahim the feeling that his Master was staring right into his very being, and he felt so wonderfully exposed. A tiny shiver ran down his spine before he remembered his next line.

“Congratulations, Master Link!” he cheered, silently praising himself for not stumbling over his own tongue. “You have passed the first trial! You have proven you possess the courage to seek out the first Sacred Flame.” He snapped his fingers, and from a tiny shower of golden triangles emerged a blue, reptilian scale. The spirit bent at the waist as he offered the scale to his Master.

“The Water Dragon’s Scale is one of the Goddess’s sacred gifts,” the albino continued once the scale was in the other’s hands. “Generously donated from the spirit of the Water Dragon, it will grant you the ability to glide under the water as easily as a fish. The Flame is somewhere in these woods, but I don’t recall seeing its shrine.”

“Then it must be somewhere we haven’t looked yet,” Link concluded.

“Well, then, what are we waiting for? Onward, to adventure!” Ghirahim returned to the Goddess Sword. As Link set off deeper into the woods, he spoke to the angel.

“Hey, Ghirahim, I didn’t want to say anything, but…your face was _really_ purple when I got back.” The Hero allowed himself a quiet chuckle as he felt the sword heat up through the scabbard.


	11. Emerald Embers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link finds the first of the Sacred Flames and discovers a minor but rather startling role Ghirahim must play in restoring the Goddess Sword to the Master Sword. Again, no Fi activating Koloktos because I want her to think Link is dead until their second fight in the Fire Sanctuary.

Koloktos had been a fairly easy fight. The worst part about it was really the waiting Link had to do for the living statue to get one of its multiple arms stuck in the floor so he could use his new whip to rip it off. It was absolutely worth it when he got to use its own giant blades against it, though.

But that was over now. The stone door that he could only assume led to Farore’s Sacred Flame glowed brighter and brighter as he approached it before vanishing completely.

Through the archway, there was another circular room (the Gods of old sure loved their circles, Link thought) with a large platform taking up most of the floor space. Upon the platform, toward the rear, there was a structure similar to the one inside the Goddess Statue back on Skyloft. Within the structure was housed another bird-like crest.

Link raised the Goddess Sword, feeling its energy surge, and struck the crest with a beam of light. The crest was sent spinning upon impact. It flashed purple. At the same time, the Crest of Farore etched into the wall behind the bird crest glowed green. An emerald flame burst from the top of the structure, flickering with a wild vitality before the hero. It came so suddenly that Link had to shield his eyes from the light and take a step back from the heat.

It was then that Ghirahim emerged from the sword and hovered between Link and the Flame. Without a word, the spirit stretched out his arms as if awaiting an embrace. Before Link could react, four pieces of the Flame split off and engulfed Ghirahim in a fiery, green orb. Link could only watch in a panic as his companion was flung about the room before crashing before him, the orb bursting into its own flame. Ghirahim knelt at the center of the fire, seemingly unharmed. He even smiled at Link.

“Raise your sword, Master,” he called over the roar of the burning emerald around him.

With little time to process what had just happened, Link brought the blade up before him, arm outstretched and ready for whatever was next. The fire shot itself at the Goddess Sword in small chunks. Link had to use both hands to hold out through the rapid impacts. Miraculously, the fire seemed to know to hit the sword, and he managed not to get burned. Once the Flame was gone, the blade of his sword now possessed its green glow. The hero lifted the weapon above his head, and in a flash, the green glow dissipated, and the sword had transformed.

It was almost unnoticeable. The blade had become longer and sharper, and the hilt had gone from a light burgundy color to a brighter red. After inspecting his new sword, Link set it back in its sheath. When the sword changed shape, the Skyloftian had felt a change in himself as well. Glancing at his right hand, he noticed a symbol consisting of three triangles arranged into a larger triangle that left an upside-down triangle in the center shimmered through his glove. The bottom right triangle glowed a bright gold color. It reminded Link of the shower of golden triangles that followed Ghirahim when he teleported.

Suddenly remembering the sword spirit, Link quickly raised his head to check on him, only to see him standing strong, a proud smile on his face. There was something...different about him. Unlike the sword, Ghirahim had not changed physically, and Link struggled to put his finger on what _had_ changed. After a moment of studying the albino, it hit him. There was a new air of confidence to the divine being. Just moments ago, Ghirahim would be blushing at his Master's undivided attention, but now there was not the slightest trace of purple on his face.

“The Sacred Flame has purified your blade, enhancing and evolving it,” said Ghirahim. “But you probably already figured that out. With your sword improved, you’re ready to learn a new melody.” His expression faltered, and, ah. There was the purple. “Unfortunately, I can't seem to recall it. Maybe returning to the Isle of Songs will jog my memory.”

As Ghirahim moved to return to the Goddess Sword, Link spoke up.

“Ghirahim, wait!” he said. The sword spirit said nothing but looked at his Master to let him know he had his attention. “Are…are you okay?” Link asked. The angel sheepishly scratched at the back of his neck.

“Oh, yes. I’m perfectly fine. After all, I wouldn’t be a very effective weapon if fire could hurt me.”

Link sighed in relief. “Please don’t do that again.”

Ghirahim laughed nervously. “I suppose I should have warned you, huh? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But, on the bright side, now there’ll be no surprises when we find the other two Flames!”

“That’s not the problem! I thought you were hurt! Or worse!”

“I know, I’m sorry! Let’s just…move on?”

“Alright,” Link said. “But please, warn me next time you need to do something like that.”

“I will,” Ghirahim promised before phasing into the newly-transformed Goddess Sword. Link headed back out of the room and downstairs to the exit of the Ancient Cistern.


	12. Memories of Bravery

_When my Master had no need of my blade, I used to enjoy spending my time observing the humans and the spirit creatures interacting. I would watch fairies zipping around children who were playing a bit too rough and patching them up so they could return to their games. I saw light spirits mentoring humans about their respective domains and how to navigate them._

_But most of all, I saw **him.** The human I had been made for. I still blush when I think about it. That phrase; the concept of being ‘made for’ someone else has held romantic implications among humans for eons. To think that I was literally made for my Master… I have always loved saying that._

_I could not tell you when my feelings for him exceeded the mere sense of loyalty Her Grace had instilled in me. Believe me, I did ask Her. I needed to know if these feelings were truly my own. I was told they were. She did not place this feeling, this…love…in me. She seemed ecstatic that I had developed such emotions on my own, for love is the most complex emotion a human could experience. And I was happy. This made me more…human. That was all I wanted. I wanted to be like them. Like **him.**_

_But I would never be like him. He was bold as I was soft-spoken. He was a leader, while I was made to serve. He was everything I was not. That must be why I felt so exceedingly drawn to him. He filled in everything I was missing. Everything I lacked was in him._

_My only regret is that I never told him before he fell to Demise. I never had the courage to do so. Now that I have the courage of Farore herself in me, I will not make that mistake again. I do plan to tell my new Master soon, before we must part ways again._

_Soon, but not now. Right now, there are more pressing matters at hand._

“Ghirahim?” Link asked over the rushing of the wind as his loftwing carried him back toward the Thunderhead to receive the next song. “You’re awfully quiet in there. Everything okay?”

_**“Ah!”**_ Ghirahim yelped from within the Goddess Sword, ripped from his musings. _**“Y-yes, Master! I was just…reminiscing is all. Nothing important.”**_

“If you say so.”

_At least… Not the **most** important thing at this moment._


End file.
